


piano man

by joelee



Category: Jaspar-Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst??, Fluff, I wrote this awhile ago, M/M, jaspar au, theyre both bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9596933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joelee/pseuds/joelee
Summary: joe is drunk and sad. caspar plays the piano.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written 9/3/16 (september 3rd)

his blood ran through his veins but he didn't really feel it.

the room had white walls, but nothing seemed white. rain poured in torrents outside, violently; softly, drowned out by the silence. light cast across the room from passing cars, through drawn curtains and blurred glass. 

a single light was on, without a lamp shade but still dim. 

his thoughts felt blurry, but he couldn't remember if he had drank anything that night.

the air was cold, biting at the skin on his arms. his apartment had a heating system, but it had never been turned on.

second ring,, third ring,,

"joe? where the hell are you?"

"look, julie babe- i told you, we're done."

"are you drunk?"

"fuck off."

"i told you not to-"

he hung up, throwing the phone somewhere next to the couch he was laying on.

ping!

julie: just.. take care of yourself, okay? xx

fuck off, he thought.

maybe he should drink something.

he sat up slowly, wincing. his stomach rolled at the movement; his head spun slightly, dangerously. he put on his glasses. they didn't have any prescription, but he thought he could see better anyway.

it was raining?

when was it not, he thought.

turns out, his fridge was empty of beer. meaning either he wasn't drunk or he had drank them all.

to the bar he went!

two miles away. only had a couple bucks. taxi cab was cheap, though the driver seemed shady. he wouldn't have minded being killed. it would've made a good sherlock holmes novel.

10:28.

she told him to meet her at her house for dinner. red wine. damned italian girls. as if he'd go back to her place after what she'd done.

"evening, joe! ..damn, you look like a mess? what's gone on?"

"alcohol,, i need alcohol."

the bar tender looked at him questioningly.

"please, mikey," joe begged, eyes crinkling up. he hurt, he hurt so fucking bad-

the man nodded once, grabbing a glass. joe sighed, leaning his head on his hand.

it burned his throat. 

tears threatened to well in his eyes, but he didn't cry. he never did. he never felt like a man anymore. just felt like a thundercloud ready to crack. weak.

"hey, man,"

joe looked up from his glass.

"i'm not gonna ask what's got you so upset, but... i don't know. tell me when you want to get out of here and i'll call a cab, alright?"

joe nodded, numbly.

11:54.

the piano at the back of the room began to play. sweet nothings; he didn't recognize the melody. a boy with blonde hair. not brown, like hers; blonde.

julie was sweet. she always was. joe knew he had been lucky to have her, too lucky, and it proved right; another dude stayed the night while joe was away. it wasn't hard to figure out. it only took a day.

of course it had happened. he knew it would, eventually.

"it didn't mean anything, joe! i promise! he's just a friend!"

had joe overreacted? the thought wrecked his mind. gorgeous; she was gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, and he didn't know if he could ever get her smile out of his brain.

"ah, yes, that's caspar; he likes to come here and play a few songs. says it calms him down better than alcohol or something. nice lad."

better than alcohol?

his head was down, he was half the room away. joe couldn't look away. the piano man, the piano man, the piano man,,

he had never played the piano. his mother had tried teaching him, but he had no interest.

better than alcohol.

his head spun.

and then the boy played his last note and looked up. a few people applauded, but most were engrossed in conversations or half gone, making love to their drinks.

his gaze scanned the room briefly, and then his eyes locked with joe's. 

joe was suddenly overly conscious of his appearance; short, skinny, eyes rimmed with dark circles and hair a mess. his skin crawled, but he couldn't look away, couldn't look away-

the boy smiled, and then looked back down to his music. joe turned away, shrinking into himself and closing his eyes, breathing once, twice. the first note started to play.

he wanted to forget. every girl he'd ever had, ever loved- they'd only ever hurt him. he didn't want that anymore.

the imprints of the boy's glowing eyes bore into his brain, slowly. they were an ocean, the tide pulling at him. he no longer ached to drown in vodka, but something else.

he braved another glance in the boy's direction, and watched him longingly. he was not good enough, he knew. he could never be good enough for a boy like him. he couldn't even play the piano.

his eyes roamed to the clock at the front of the room. it taunted him, ticking slowly. midnight. wake up, joey, it said. stop trying. you'll never find what you want. your girl never loved you. he won't either. who would?

he looked away, breathing slowly. in, out. in, out. overwhelmed.

and now, here he was, he thought, in a brief moment of clarity. at a bar on a rainy friday night, drunk and gross and a disgrace compared to the ephemeral beauty across the room. he didn't want to drink anymore.

it dug at him like a knife. it was only one night.

1:31.

it was half past one. he think he did cry, a little bit, but he couldn't recall when. everything was blurry, as if he'd drown any moment. he felt a little less thunderous, and more like the rain clouds outside.

despite his earlier words, there was still alcohol on his tongue.

the pianist had left minutes before, and now joe was left alone. mikey had left his spot at the bar to grab something from the back room.

there was only a few people left at the bar, anyway.

if he waited until mikey came back, he would call a cab and then joe would have to pay the fee. 

he got up, and left the bar.

to his surprise, the blonde boy was just outside, leaning against the wall. he was staring at his phone, looking relaxed. 

caspar.

joe could only stare for a moment longer before the blonde lifted his head, looking in his direction. 

"hi," he said, brightly. joe thought his smile looked sad. he cringed; he didn't want to be pitied. 

"hi," joe echoed, unable to think of a proper response. 

gorgeous, he thought. the thought hurt him.

and then the other smiled, and laughed, and he could only compare the sight to the sun. he had to look away, he had to. he had not seen the sun in so long. his girlfriend's dining room had been so dark, the curtains always drawn.

so he smiled at the ground.

"great weather we're having" the other commented, looking around. the rain had eased to a slight mist, fogging up the lenses on his glasses but not so bad that he couldn't see.

joe shrugged, indifferent. 

"do you have a ride?"

again, joe shrugged. "not really."

"oh. how come?" 

"no cash," joe muttered.

"i could ask my taxi driver to drop you off on the way home?" he was too nice, too nice, but the offer was tempting and joe didn't have the energy left in him to be wary.

everything felt like a dream.

"if you want."

and then he looked away, for he was exhausted and slightly sick from heartbreak and the alcohol hadn't helped. the bright lights pierced his eyes.

a few minutes passed.

"you got a girlfriend?" joe jumped slightly, heart clenching at the question. 

"no.. broke up a couple days ago. cheated with some hotter douche bag."

"hotter than you?"

joe looked at him quizzically. "that's what i said.."

caspar grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "impossible."

"huh?"

"you're beautiful."

"oh.. thanks." joe's cheeks heated up at the compliment. the ground was made of concrete, he noticed.

"i learned to play the piano from her,, gaby. but then i decided to move here, and we didn't want to long distance."

"yea?"

"i used to do it because i missed her. but now, i don't know. it's just something i like to do. or maybe i'm lonely as hell. who knows." he laughed.

joe's phone read 1:43. he put it back in his pocket.

"i liked your music."

"thanks."

"my sister could do it- play the piano, i mean. i tried too, but didn't get anywhere."

"i could teach you."

"yeah, right."

"really! come back to my place and i'll teach you- it'll only take the night."

joe rolled his eyes. "you just want to get in my pants," he joked.

"no!" caspar smiled innocently at him.

mikey knew him, so joe didn't really care. sherlock homes, he told himself. sherlock homes. 

"..okay."

the taxi cab came a minute later. the driver looked either drunk or half asleep, and again, joe tried to convince himself he didn't care. but somehow, the presence of the taller boy made his head clearer than it had been in days.

weeks.

he sat down in one the back seats, head slumping against the head rest. caspar sat shotgun.

joe took his glasses off, wiping them dry on the inside of his shirt. then, he put them back on and closed his eyes.

2:23.

"joe! wake up!" warm hands shook his shoulders gently. joe's eyes cracked open, and he blinked a couple times, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes.

caspar half helped him up, half dragged him out of the car, before shutting the door and waving off the driver.

"how long was i asleep for?"

caspar shrugged, starting to walk. "half an hour?"

"you go to a bar that's a half hour away?"

"you'll be surprised what a small number of bars have pianos these days."

"but don't you have one here?"

"yeah."

he fiddled with the keys for a moment before opening the door. inside there was two doors and a set of stairs leading upstairs. he pointed to the door on the right. "that one's mine."

"how do your neighbors like your music?"

caspar laughed, with that same carefree smile joe had seen earlier. "they both moved out. i've got this building to myself right now."

joe snorted. "that's convenient."

"you bet." he unlocked his door, walking in and throwing off his shoes. joe followed, a bit more uncertain.

"you want some coffee?"

"i guess."

"great! 'cause we're not sleeping for a long while."

"i can't believe this," joe muttered.

2:39.

"so.. tell me something about yourself."

everything is blurry.

his sister hates him. a week ago he felt love for a girl and now its just anger. his favorite color is burgundy. he dropped out of college a year ago, after realizing he'd be the worst fucking lawyer in the world. he has a part time job at a hobby store, and another at a cafe down the street. 

his glasses are pointless, but he thinks they help him see anyway.

everything isn't actually blurry; his brain is at blame there. he was on the football team in secondary school but the captain was his sister's boyfriend, and therefore also hated him. it'd take an essay to explain why his sister hates him.

he really liked caspar's smile.

he didn't want to get ahead of himself. it was weird, this situation. not everything is as it seems, he thinks.

he takes his glasses off and puts them down, next to him. 

usually, these things took time. a day to meet someone, a week to warm up. a month in and you kiss. one night stands were generally for fucking and luckily for joe, caspar seemed to be keeping his word about keeping it in his pants.

or, joe had assumed wrong from the start.

caspar's apartment was small enough to be cozy yet open. the floor was all grey carpet, except for in the kitchen.

at the end of the room was his piano, as he had said. behind it was a large window. 

the sky had cleared since he had gotten into that taxi; he could see stars through the window. 

joe and caspar were sat at his coffee table, mugs in their hands. caspar was rummaging through a bunch of papers, which looked like sheets of music.

"joe?"

"oh, yeah, sorry. um.. my favorite color is burgundy?"

"yeah?"

3:04.

caspar lee was 19 years old. he had moved from south africa to europe about a year ago, alone. he has a cute dog and an older sister, and he really loves his mum. his best friends are all still from south africa. his job was just over minimum wage, but he said it was temporary. 

"i found it! great, we can start now."

"so you're saying i can learn to play the piano all in one morning?"

"pretty much. or at least the basics."

3:12.

joe sugg was an ethereal being.

he had thought so from the moment he looked up from that piano. he saw the brown haired beauty, looking right back at him, and his heart flipped. his nerves had been on fire for the entire time he was there, in case he had still had his attention. 

the boy was sat in between his legs on the piano bench, however that happened. his fingers traced the keys delicately, hesitantly. caspar guided him slowly, teaching him scales first, and then little tunes. when he finally got 'twinkle twinkle little star' right he perked up, smiling widely. 

"look, cas, i did it!"

"yeah, you did!" caspar replied, giggling. he felt high.

joe's hair glowed blond in the moonlight.

but then he sighed, leaning against caspar's chest. 

"why are we doing this, again?" he yawned.

"i dunno. 'cause you wanted to?"

"i did?"

"i dunno." 

joe stays there, fiddling with a piece of caspar's shirt. caspar finds a book of songs and begins to play them, mindlessly. his mind is on the boy, he knows. his heartbeat slows, and he feels more sober than he has all night. he is sober, anyway. 

he wonders what will happen when the sun rises.


End file.
